


Be safe, and stay out of trouble.

by marginaliana



Category: The Hidden Almanac (Podcast)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, University
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 22:38:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17068496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marginaliana/pseuds/marginaliana
Summary: Welcome to the Hidden Almanac, everybody – I'm Pastor Drom! Reverend Mord is out sick today. Well, I say sick, but I think it might be more of an existential dread. Anyway, for today I thought we'd do something a little different. I've had a lot of questions about how Mord and I first met…





	Be safe, and stay out of trouble.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Orichalxos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orichalxos/gifts).



Welcome to the Hidden Almanac, everybody – I'm Pastor Drom! Reverend Mord is out sick today. Well, I say sick, but I think it might be more of an existential dread. No idea what could have caused it, he says. Definitely not the voicemail I left him at three a.m. with an early holiday gift reading from my new manuscript, he says.

Anyway, it's December 22nd, 2018, and for today I thought we'd do something a little different. I suppose I should tell you that the weather is cold and the garden is cold and the interns are cold, and it's the feast day of Saint Angelica Batnose. Now that's out of the way and we can get on to the interesting bit.

I've had a lot of questions about how Mord and I first met. Mostly from the interns. But I also have a letter from the Ravencoast Archives – it says we're famous! Or, hang on… I think that says ‘infamous,' actually. Close enough. And since Mord is sick and can't stop me, here we go!

> They came for her on a dark and stormy night – well, actually they came for her at 11 on a Tuesday morning, but that was because, as Drom was to discover, the Ravencoast admissions department believed surprise to be the most important element of drama.
> 
> Drom was halfway through preparing an offering of lavender blossoms and decaf coffee when the doorbell rang. She checked that she was at an acceptable stopping place and then dried her hands and went to the door. A woman stood there. She was average looking, wore a smart pantsuit, and carried a clipboard as well as her purse. _Renewable energy sales_ was Drom’s first thought, but something in the woman's manner didn't quite fit.
> 
> "You are Aureliophinia Drom," said the woman, more statement than question. She did not introduce herself.
> 
> "Uh…" There was probably no use in denying it. "Yep!"
> 
> "And you have, over the last month, performed several unlicensed miracles?"
> 
> "It was just the one!" Drom said automatically. The woman looked at her emotionlessly. "Well, okay, maybe two or three." _Or five._ Perhaps she _had_ gotten a little carried away after discovering what she could do. But who wouldn't? Miracles didn’t come along every day. Unless you really worked at it.
> 
> "You are therefore invited to attend the Ravencoast School of Divinity. The term starts on November first."
> 
> "Ah." School didn't sound particularly exciting, especially when Drom considered the list of experiments that she had planned. The long list. The long, long list. 
> 
> "Or," the woman continued, "there is an alternate program." Drom perked up. "It involves these." The woman pulled something out of her bag. It was, unmistakably, a pair of handcuffs. _Magical_ handcuffs. Drom… perked down.
> 
> "The school program sounds delightful," she said. The woman mercifully replaced the handcuffs, and less mercifully handed Drom the clipboard. 
> 
> "Excellent," she said. "We'll begin the enrollment paperwork with page one." 
> 
> -
> 
> November first found Drom in the coffee shop in the student center. Above her hung garlands of raven feathers, a tribute to the first day of the term and the martyrdom of Saint Patagia, as well as a few posters celebrating the most recent win of the Ravencoast Spiderlings. It was far too early in the morning and she was halfway through an extremely caffeinated latte when the woman from admissions – Drom still hadn't managed to catch her name, and by now it seemed unwise to ask – materialized by her side.
> 
> "How wonderful to see you," the woman said, ignoring Drom’s flinch. Given the tone of her voice, Drom was pretty sure that the woman would have been equally thrilled to see her in the handcuffs. "Welcome to Ravencoast. This is Acolyte Mord." The gesture encompassed the young (??) person (???) standing beside her. The person wore a plague doctor mask and a trenchcoat, sleeves hanging down to cover their hands almost completely. They wore brown gloves in much the same leather as the mask.
> 
> "He will be your guide and mentor as you adjust to student life."
> 
> "Greetings," Mord intoned.
> 
> "Hiya!" said Drom; by now the coffee was beginning to have the desired effect. Mord stared at her – she could just about tell that much through the mask's eyeholes. By the time she looked away, the admissions woman was gone. Drom boggled briefly, then shrugged and turned back to Mord. 
> 
> "So," she said, rubbing her palms together. "What's there to do around here?" She gestured towards the chair across the table. Mord examined it for a moment, then sat. 
> 
> "There is a garden," he said. His voice held a little bit less intonation. Drom figured that meant he was warming to her. 
> 
> "Weeeell," Drom said. "I don't _dislike_ gardens. But I guess I was thinking more along the lines of, you know. Someplace with tequila?"
> 
> "There are agave plants in the garden," said Mord. 
> 
> Drom couldn't tell whether that was meant to be a joke or not. The mask gave nothing away, but there was the tiniest of glints in his eye. A puzzle. Yes, he'd definitely be a puzzle. 
> 
> Drom _loved_ puzzles. "Is there a still?" she asked.
> 
> "No."
> 
> "Will you let me build one?"
> 
> Mord hesitated, then sighed heavily. "I do not think I could stop you."
> 
> "Darn right!" said Drom. "Let's go and see the garden, then. I can do some preliminary scouting for a good place."
> 
> "Not near the beehive," said Mord, but he stood up. 
> 
> Drom rose too and clapped him on the back, carefully ignoring the feeling of writhing movement inside the trenchcoat. _All part of the puzzle_ , she reminded herself. _Not terrifying at all._
> 
> "Why are you doing that?" Mord asked. He didn't sound offended, merely curious.
> 
> "Because, Mord," Drom said, "we're going to be friends. In fact, I have the feeling that you and I are going to be the _greatest_ of friends."

I hope you all enjoyed that little bit of history. And you can all tell Mord that today's show was educational! It's not too far from the sort of stuff he usually talks about. You know, the horrific decrees of the Librarian Prince and all that. Hopefully with a little less bloodshed. Although there was that time with the—Yeah, let's skip over that, actually. 

The Hidden Almanac is brought to you by Red Wombat Resistance Company, purveyors of fine and revolutionary teas. Red Wombat: Fight the Power!

Also brought to you by Scarlet Wombat Publishing's new book, _A Totally Official Guide to Making Friends with Things Hidden in Trenchcoats, volume 1_ , by me, Pastor Drom. It's a corker. And I'm not just saying that because I wrote it. Honest. Mord read it and he didn't even bury it in the compost heap.

That's the Hidden Almanac for December 22nd, 2018. Be safe and remember, you are not alone. Also, stay out of trouble. I should probably add that bit in, too. Yeah. Be safe, and stay out of trouble.


End file.
